TMNT: Super Shredder's Army
by gostars3000
Summary: Two years after the turtles' encounter with Super Shredder at the docks, he's back! But not only is he bigger and deadlier, he's got the help of a CEO scientist to create a mutant army. Can our heroes stop them? Rated M for V&L Please R
1. Prologue

**First of all I do not own anything. TMNT is owned and copyrighted by the awesome geniuses Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. This story takes elements from the comics, the cartoons, and the films. This is just what I think should have been the third entry of the film series, not that abomination that took place in ancient Japan. You might have a different opinion but that's cool. Anyway, the prologue takes place right after where TMNT 2: TSOTO left off.**

**TMNT: Super Shredder's Army**

**Prologue**

March 22, 1991 11:24pm

Outside the Dockshore club, a Turner Construction crew arrives to clean up what was left of the shipping docks and repair it. The foreman didn't remember all of the call he received an hour ago, but he did remember hearing something about a huge fight breaking out in the club during Vanilla Ice's performance involving four turtles, a bunch of ninjas, and some shogun promising revenge. At first, he thought it was a prank call until he came around the building and saw the pile of twisted metal and broken wood with his own eyes. It was then he realized that no human being would be capable of this amount of destruction.

"Looks like a tornado ran through here." one of the workers exclaimed.

"Or your mother looking for more hoagies." another retorted.

"Screw you, douche!"

"Alright, alright. Let's just get this over with, OK?" said the foreman. "I can't believe I gotta do this crap at this time o' night when I could be out downing a nightcap at the Bowery!" he muttered to himself.

Hours went by as the men cleared up the rubble. After the hundredth pile of broken planks was moved aside, one of the workers noticed something unusual sticking out of the debris. It looked like an arm.

"Hey I think we got a body over here!" he shouted.

The workers rushed over to pull as much debris off of the victim as possible. Hoping that there might be some life left in this unfortunate soul for the hospital to handle, they thought they rummaged through the damaged dock to find the body of a partygoer or a security guard who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, but not this.

"Somebody call an ambulance! Whoa! Check this guy out! Cool outfit!" the workers exclaimed.

They had come across a hulk of a man. He appeared to be at least seven feet tall and looked like he had the best steroid injection ever. He wore a metallic samurai helmet, razor edged plates protecting his shoulders, forearms, and shins, a purple bodysuit and a black silk cape. His look would put all the wrestlers of the WWF to shame.

"Is this guy dead?"

"He oughtta be."

"Hey Lenny, nudge this guy, will ya?"

Lenny looked at the other worker as if he just asked him to jump off a cliff.

"Um…shouldn't we wait for the ambulance?"

"Come on, he ain't gonna do nothin'. What are you, chicken?"

Lenny inched over to the fallen form. What am I doing? He thought to himself. He took a deep breath, stood near the man's helmet…drew his foot back…and…kicked his head. Not a hard scoring-a-World Cup-goal kick, just a tap.

Nothing.

He kicked him again.

Also nothing.

"See, Lenny? What did I tell ya? He didn't do nothin'."

"Ah, you guys." Said Lenny, feeling like a chump. "You know I get—

_SLASH_

The look of amusement on the workers' faces turned into sheer horror. Before Lenny could finish his sentence, he felt a sharp pain his back. Blood gushed out his mouth like a fountain before getting thrown into the water by the now standing frightening figure.

"GET HIM!" one worker shouted.

The construction crew was like a colony of hornets. If you mess with one of them, then you mess with all of them. One worker threw a left haymaker at the monster but it was blocked and he was dealt a huge forearm swipe sending him fifteen feet away into a dock post, breaking his spine. Two men (one armed with a pickax, the other with a shovel) tried to dissect the metallic beast but the pickax was grabbed and pushed into the worker's skull while the shovel was broken and used to impale its handler.

"GET OUT OF HERE! CALL THE COPS!" shouted the foreman.

After getting it through their heads that fighting this monster was not an option, they decided to high tail it out of there. But even that proved futile. Before anyone made it to the street, the beast removed his hands from his pockets to send his hidden throwing knives into the fleeing workers. One worker in an excavator tried to use his machine to pinch the killer to death. The metal jaws came lower until they reached his upper body. They closed on him.

"Eat this, you bastard!"

However, his joy turned into shock once he saw that the jaws were being torn apart. Sparks began to fly out the machine as this demon took hold of the lower jaw and swung it at the operator.

_Oh damn_

_CRASH_

The foreman was able to sprint over to a payphone to summon New York's finest and maybe even the military, hopefully.

_911 Emergency_

"Yeah, get me the—UGH!"

The foreman felt a huge burning sensation in his chest send him flying back still clutching the receiver, now torn from the booth. Clutching his charred chest, he looked over at the docks to see the demented warrior. What happened next nearly made him piss himself. The creature crossed his arms and teleported from the docks to the platform outside the nightclub, standing over him. The foreman scurried to get to his feet but he was grabbed by the throat and lifted up. His bladder finally let loose when he looked into the eyes of his soon-to-be killer.

"The world will know my wrath!" He spoke in a low but thunderous voice. "Starting with…the turtles!"

The frightened foreman had no idea what this psychotic giant was talking about. Nor would he ever. Especially when the giant formed his free hand into the shape of a claw and released a glowing blue beam at the foreman. He screamed as his body temperature decreased rapidly until he was a standing block of ice. Literally, he stood frozen in fear.

Super Shredder was back.


	2. Chapter 1: Origins

**Chapter 1: Origins**

New York City. One of the largest cities in the world. A city known for its history, culture, the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, and about a thousand pizza joints all claiming to be the best. Unfortunately, another thing that New York City is known for is its high crime rate. Rapes, robberies, and murders were as common as sunrises. The police could only do so much.

But there was hope. It came from the most unusual group of heroes ever.

Four mutant turtles.

They were originally pets of a young boy who had just finished purchasing them from a pet store when as he walked outside, as a result of clumsiness, he dropped the glass bowl containing them, in the gutter. The water that was once their home carried the four reptiles into the sewer. It seemed that nothing living, let alone these turtles, wouldn't last in a sewer, especially when they came across a puddle of glowing green sludge. Having no concept of what was safe and what wasn't, and looking for a safe haven, they crawled near it and it became their new territory.

An unknown time later, a rat came by looking for food (as any rat would do) and discovered the turtles. It is unusual for animals of another species to care for another, but the rat felt concerned for these creatures. The only family it ever knew was long dead and would hate for the turtles to suffer in such a filthy environment. The rat found a spoon nearby and used it to gather the four into a coffee can for shelter.

For several days, the rat continued to care for the turtles. Whenever they searched for food, they would pass by the storm drains above and hear voices coming from the city. They would hear conversations from people who bore mullets and carried boom boxes over their shoulders. The turtles couldn't remember all that was being said but they would pick up certain words like, "bodacious", "radical", "tubular", "awesome" and other words not only associated with surf culture, but all other things as well.

One day, one of the turtles was actually able to move its vocal chord and say,

"Splinter."

The rat could not believe his ears (one of them, at least. The other had been severed off in the past). His ward actually spoke!

Turtles are not supposed to speak! No animal is! Except for humans. Only humans are capable of speaking and thinking. Wait a minute! Now I'm thinking this! How is this possible? Well if I could think, maybe I could speak too.

The rat moved his lips in order to talk. He felt his vocal chord vibrate as he said,

"Splinter?"

"Splinter." The turtle responded happily.

He had no idea (until later on) that a splinter is a tiny piece of wood that gets stuck in your skin. But the rat was so astounded by this young creature's accomplishment; he assumed that the turtle was addressing him like a child would address its parent by Mommy or Daddy. Soon, more words would follow from the other three.

_Radical_.

_Bodacious._

_Wicked._

_Gnarly._

_Awesome._

_Tubular._

One day, while searching for food, the group overheard a conversation from the street above.

"Hey, you sure you don't want anymore pizza? OK I'm tossing it out!"

The next thing they knew, a white cardboard box slid through the storm drain and dropped right next to them. On impact, the cover folded open to reveal a thin semicircular object. It had been cut into five pieces with the other three gone. Its scent attracted them like flies.

"Pizza?" one of the turtles asked. Judging from the conversation above, he assumed that it was the correct word for whatever fell in front of them. They all gathered around the mysterious object wondering what its use was. With their stomachs rumbling, they wondered that if it smelled good, it must taste good too, right? With no other options, they sank their teeth into this "pizza" and relished in the fact that it was indeed delicious. They devoured happily until the box contained nothing but the grease the pizza left behind. They would never forget the name or the taste of the savory food and hoped they would come across it again later on.

Splinter remembered the dangers of society for that is how he lost his master years ago, and his ear severed. His master, Hamato Yoshi, was a skilled ninjitsu expert and through all the years training and practicing, Splinter, sitting in his cage and watching remembered very well the lessons Yoshi taught. He loved these four turtles as if they were his own children and did not want them to suffer the same horrible fate of his master. As soon as the turtles were able to stand and walk on their hind legs, Splinter began to teach them the art of ninjitsu.

For years, the turtles grew not only in size, but in strength, speed, and intelligence as well. Their skills increased dramatically to a point where not even the most aggressive of muggers or murderers could overcome them. They may spend their nights overcoming old grannies for their purses or banks for hundreds of people's money, but unless any thug was as skilled these turtles, woe to him if he ever crossed their path.

Whenever Splinter wanted to praise or criticize the turtles, he didn't know how to address them. But after scavenging some more, he found an old Renaissance book. After reading about the great painters and sculptors of that era, he decided to name his ward after four of these great men.

Leonardo.

Raphael.

Michelangelo.

Donatello.

They are the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.


	3. Chapter 2: The Deal

**Chapter 2: The Deal**

March 19, 1993 10:37pm

Tracy O'Leary and Leon Silver are no amateurs at what they do. They had been dealing drugs, robbing banks, and about a million other things no human being should do for as long as they can remember. Naturally, they've received enough money to retire early to a beach house in the Bahamas. But they don't, because as Leon puts it, no career was more fun than crime.

Tonight would be no exception. Hours ago, they received word from their employer that they would be making a deal with none other than the Inagawa-kai, the third largest yakuza in Japan. Tracy and Leon weren't told what exactly they would be buying from the yakuza. All they were told was that it was some very good stuff.

Good stuff? What did their employer mean by that? Could it be drugs? Could it be weapons? Tracy and Leon had plenty. In fact, they were carrying more assault rifles, shotguns, and grenades in their Hummer than a Texas survivalist tribe, in case this deal was a trick to take the $5,000,000 they were carrying. They've dealt with things like that before and they've always come out on top. The two were hoping they would not resort to blowing everyone to hell (well Leon wasn't, Tracy was itching to kill).

On the 2nd story of the 17th Street Parking Garage, Taka Togo and his crew of twenty-three well-dressed Japanese mobsters waited for their customers to arrive. Whenever a meeting was scheduled, Togo was never late and became disgruntled when others were. Lazy Americans, he thought as he took a drag from his Marlboro. His attitude changed when he saw a white Hummer H1 pull up in an empty spot next to his black Acura TSX.

When the headlights turned off, out of the driver's seat came a well-built Caucasian man with a crew cut, dog tags around his neck, a black wife beater, camouflage pants and Gestapo boots. Out from the passenger's seat stepped an equally muscular African-American thug with a purple Mohawk tied into a rat tail, a nose ring, a red vest, black jeans, a chain used as a belt, and red Chuck Taylor high tops. He was carrying a black briefcase.

"Tracy O'Leary and Leon Silver?" Togo asked, bearing a fake smile.

"Yeah, that's us." The one in the camouflage pants said.

"I'm Leon, that's Tracy," said the thug with the Mohawk.

"Look, I don't care which of you is which. All I care about is what you brought for us in exchange for our product." Togo snapped,

"Alright, relax!" exclaimed Leon as he opened the briefcase. Togo did become relaxed once he saw thousands of green Ben Franklins staring up at him. "Five mil. Now where's the shit _you_ were supposed to bring?"

"Ah yes, the _shit_," said Togo, disgusted with Leon's choice of words. He wondered if every other American spoke like him. Right then, Togo's bodyguard pulled out a silver case from the trunk of his car, brought it over to Tracy and Leon and unlatched it to reveal a vial containing a glowing green substance.

"Had your country not have banned this mutagen, we would not be so generous to obtain it for your sick needs. What does your employer plan on using it for, if you don't mind me asking?"

Tracy held up the vial and spoke up in his thick New York accent. "Look, I don't know what this stuff is or why our boss wants it, but I do know that he's gonna be real happy once he has it, and we're getting a lot of money for this. That's all we care about."

_BAM!_

As soon as the word _about_ left Tracy's mouth, several small explosions went off at once resulting in huge puffs of smoke that seemed to turn the meeting grounds into a gas chamber. The dealers coughed and gagged and swiped away at the air, hoping to clear away the unwanted smog. Once the smoke cleared, one guard had a frightening thought. He thought he was hallucinating. Because he couldn't believe what was standing right in front of him: a 6-foot turtle wearing a blue mask and a pair of katanas equipped to his shell.

"HIYA!"

Before the yakuza guard could react, Leonardo turned and knocked him out with a spinning wheel kick.

At that moment, the rest of the yakuza whipped out their own katanas, sai, bo staffs, jo staffs, nunchucks, spiked flails, and kamas.

"PARTY TIME!" someone shouted. It sounded like a teenage boy arriving on a beach. The yakuza looked around and before three of them knew it, they were blind sighted by three other turtles, each with a different colored mask and weapon.

"Kill them!" Togo screamed in Japanese.

Two men swung their flails at the turtle wearing a purple mask and armed with a bo staff but he blocked them, getting the chains caught. Then, he leapt and kicked them both in the heads before sending the end of his staff into gut of an attacker behind him. With the staff, he whirled around and smacked the thug in the temple, flooring him.

Not far away another turtle with a red mask seemed to be holding his own real well, when he blocked an overhead swipe with his sai from a guard swinging a katana and kicked him in the chest. Another guard jumped on the turtle's shell from behind, trying to choke him with a chain. While another guard swung at him with a jo staff, the turtle ducked and the man strangling him was knocked out cold. He swung again, and instead of connecting with the turtle's head like he wanted, the staff was blocked and its handler was hit with a back heel kick.

"Hey nice one, Raph!" shouted the turtle with the purple mask.

"Watch it, Donny!"

Donatello looked to his left. Right before a kama could be dug into his skull, its handler was struck in the forehead with a hard elbow by yet another turtle wearing an orange mask and wielding a pair of nunchucks.

"You gotta be more careful dude! You almost got _kama-kazied_! Get it?"

"Yeah thanks, Mikey."

After the last of the yakuza got acquainted with the floor, Taka Togo whipped out his metal bo staff and demonstrated his deadly skills by wielding it swiftly. The turtles were not impressed.

"What is this, a parade?" Leo laughed, "Why don't you march on out of here?"

Infuriated, Togo ran straight for the turtles and attempted to bludgeon them. The sounds of metal clanging echoed throughout the lot as Togo's staff connected with the turtles' weapons in offence and defense. Normally, a four-on-one situation is considered unfair, but Togo defied that logic when the turtles were unable to put a scratch on him. Togo started to feel proud of himself, knowing that he could fend off four attackers, when Mike caught the staff with his chucks and twisted it out of his hands. In response, Togo attempted a pump kick, but Mike caught his foot, and delivered several roundhouse kicks before sweeping his free leg out from under him.

Tracy and Leon, who were hiding the whole time, decided to take off. While Togo was staring at the ceiling (and maybe some stars), the sound of the Hummer's doors slamming shut caught the turtles' attention, followed by the ignition.

"Aw, it looks like someone's checking out of the hotel." Raph said.

"Well guys, let's give them their pillow mints!" retorted Leo.

The Hummer sped onto the street despite the traffic jam. Horns honked, insults were traded and middle fingers were flipped as Tracy did his best not to get him and his associate killed. After dodging his sixth red light, he noticed a set of red and blue lights flashing in the rearview mirror.

"Leon?"

"Yeah yeah, I know."

Leon quickly dug through the backseat until he found the weapon that satisfied him: an M16 assault rifle. He leaned out the window, aimed, and fired several rounds at the pursuer. One shell pierced through Officer John Barlow's shoulder, causing him swerve his patrol car so as not to get a slug in his head. However, this caused his car to roll like a barrel sending broken glass and metal all over 9th Avenue.

Dozens of onlookers scrambled to get inside the nearest buildings so as not to become roadkill. Tracy and Leon knew they could have the National Guard on them anytime soon but they weren't about to go down without a fight. They've had a good career in the black market so why not go out in a blaze of glory?

Just then, Tracy spotted another vehicle in the rearview mirror. But it didn't have flashing lights, nor was it a cop car. It was a green and yellow painted van. On top of it were a radar antenna and two turrets on opposite sides. Inside the van, Leo was at the wheel while Mike took control of the targeting system in the passenger seat.

"Nice job on the van, Donny. Can it turn into a B2 Bomber, too?" asked Raph.

"Not quite, but the turrets can each fire 500 rounds per second and can hit their targets from 10 miles away."

"In this traffic, these two shouldn't get that far." Leo proclaimed. "Get a good aim on these guys, Mikey."

"You got it, dude! Target locked on."

The red crosshairs of the targeting system was able to search past the pedestrians and vehicles to lock onto the white Hummer, which by now had hit past several other vehicles.

When Leon saw the Turtle Van, he reloaded his M16, leaned out the window and unloaded the rifle's clip into the windshield, the engine, and even the turrets. If the turtles weren't able to duck their heads back into their shells, there would probably be a lot of tears to shed the following morning. Smoke began to bellow from under the hood as the van slowed down.

"Aw man! I think they shot out the engine!" yelled Leo as the Hummer sped off into the city's bright lights.

"No prob, dudes! I think I can still get 'em."

Even though the targeting system was distorted, Mike was still able to lock back onto the Hummer. With one pull of the trigger on the Nintendo Flight Controller joystick connected, several rounds zoomed past the frightened onlookers and straight into the Hummer's rear tires. Despite Tracy's best maneuvering, the Hummer spun out of control and skidded straight for Adolfo's Pizzaria at sixty miles per hour.

"OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!"

_CRASH_

"What a bummer for the Hummer." Mikey joked.

The hummer came to a grinding halt but not without tearing a hole in the entranceway. Bricks and glass shards scattered all over the now useless car.

"Damn, man!" Leon spat

Tracy glared at his passenger. "Let's see you drive, next time! Man, what the hell are those things, turtles?"

"I don't know. I don't care either."

Leon grabbed a TPS (Tactical Police Shotgun) and stood guard outside the damaged vehicle. He pointed the gun at onlookers for he felt that this incident was none of their business.

"WHAT Y'ALL LOOKING AT! GET OUTTA HERE!!" he screamed as he fired two shots in the air.

One woman tried to run but tripped over a café chair. This caught Leon's eye as he inched towards her.

"No, please! I got a fam—

"I don't care what you got!"

In the past, Leon had killed drug dealers, gang members, and people who didn't make their payments on time. This woman meant nothing to him. He cocked his weapon and proceeded to pull the trigger until-

_SLING_

The next thing he knew, his shotgun was nothing more than two metal bars, courtesy of Leo's katana.

"No guns allowed, big boy."

"Aw that's it!"

Leon swung at Leo with a mighty right hook, followed by a left elbow strike and a right haymaker (all blocked). But before Leon's haymaker could land, Leo grabbed his beefy arm and threw him over his shoulder with a hip toss.

Meanwhile, Raph tried to pull Tracy out of the car but was met with two Gestapo boots to the face, sending him sprawling backward on his shell. Tracy remembered a joke about what a turtle had in common with a blonde. Once they're on their backs, they're screwed. Once he got out of the vehicle, he pulled out his survival knife to slice open Raph's throat but felt a huge kick in the chest from Don. Tracy went right at Don, swinging his knife at him with deadly precision. As soon as Tracy tried to slash Don's eye out, the knife was kicked out of his hand. So Tracy resorted to his hand-to-hand knowledge as his last resort. He killed 93 people in the Gulf War, 37 when he got back and had no problem adding more to his casualty list.

Mikey miscalculated Leon and got slugged in the chin with a hard upward hammer blow along with a quick shot to the gut. Mikey retaliated by swinging his nunchucks, hoping to knock this guy out but to no avail. Punches and kicks were thrown and blocked, as the turtles could no longer land a blow on these two black marketers.

The turtles have dealt with all sorts of thugs before. Bank robbers, pickpockets, etc, but these two were something else. Finally, Leon made a huge mistake. He thought the trashcan on the sidewalk would benefit the assault, but as soon as he picked it up over his head, Leo did a legsweep while Mike jumped and kicked the can into Leon's skull, sending him flat on his back.

While Don was trying to hold his own with Tracy, Raph took him out with a powerful roundhouse, causing him flip back onto his chest. It was a job well done, at least to three of the turtles. Raph wasn't finished. While the police rolled up, Raph grabbed Tracy while he was down and proceeded to slam his head into the ground.

"You wanna kick me again, you little punk?

_SMACK!_

"HUH? I'll kill you!"

_SMACK!_

"Eat the damn concrete! EAT IT!"

_SMACK!_

"Raph! Raph, that's enough! It's alright! Calm down!" the other three turtles shouted as they tried to pry Raph from Tracy.

"GET OFF OF ME! Did you see what he did to me?"

"Raph, it's alright! The cops are here! Just chill out, OK?" said Leo.

"…sonofa…bitch." Tracy managed to get out as blood poured out his nose.

Raph kept his glare on Tracy as the police handcuffed him and Leon and loaded them into their car. Tracy looked through the patrol car's window to exchange glares with the turtle that beat him while he was down. Tracy knew he was a scumbag, but he would never stoop that low. He continued to stare until the patrol car started and carried the men to the nearest precinct.

***

**_Can you guess who Tracy and Leon resemble?_**


	4. Chapter 3: The Aftermath

**Chapter 3: The Aftermath**

March 20, 1993 6:00pm

A fanfare plays and studio lights brighten on a well-dressed woman in her mid-twenties with red hair, sitting next to a well-dressed man with short dark hair. They were both sitting behind a desk in front of a blue wall with the banner, CHANNEL 6 NEWS above, as they looked into the camera.

"Thank you for joining us, I'm April O'Neil and alongside with me is Vernon Fenwick. We continue our top story about the incident that took place last night when those radioactive turtles, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, and Donatello prevented an arms deal between the Inagawa-kai, the third largest yakuza in Japan, and wanted felons, Tracy O'Leary and Leon Silver. The deal took place at the 17th Street Parking Garage where the product to be sold was a vial of mutagen, which has been banned in the United States for two years. O'Leary and Silver refused to say anything when asked what the mutagen was needed for and Chief lieutenant of the Inagawa-kai, Taka Togo, has been handed over to Japanese authorities as of right now."

"Indeed, a few criminals are off the streets but was the situation handled correctly?" Vernon asked, once the camera cut to him. April couldn't believe what she just heard.

"Once the deal was interrupted, O'Leary and Silver were chased and fired at with several rounds of machine gunfire, injuring a pursuing officer, and caused the two to crash into Adolfo's Pizzeria. The injured officer was Lieutenant John Barlow. He was hit in the shoulder, causing him to crash his car as well. Barlow is now being treated for his wounds and has not yet decided whether or not to take legal action. Before the authorities arrived to take the two men into custody, they were viciously beaten."

As Vernon continued talking, the camera faded to Tracy and Leon's mug shots. Both of them looked as if they went head-to-head with the LAPD, even though Tracy was the one beaten to a bloody pulp and all Leon got in his face was the imprint left behind by the trash can lid.

"One witness claimed she saw the turtle, known as Raphael, attempt to pull O'Leary out the vehicle and slam his head into the pavement multiple times. New York Police Department Chief Jeffrey Sterns had this to say."

The camera cut to an overweight, middle-aged cop standing in front of several reporters with microphones, all of them craving for his input. Chief Sterns was no stranger to April. Back in 1990, she asked him in an interview about the Foot clan's possible involvement in the crime wave that was hitting New York City and wasn't too happy about him not accepting the situation. He would even stiff her again the next year when the mutants, Tokka and Rahzar, would tear a street apart.

"We do not approve of the turtles' actions. As Chief of police, I am against vigilantism in all of its forms. I strongly suggest that anyone, regardless of how they feel of the city's crime rate, leave the dirty work to us."

***

Meanwhile, in the abandoned subway hideout, the turtles watched their old Sony TV in disgust of how their accomplishment was being portrayed.

"Well, where the hell were you, Sterns?" Donny yelled at the TV. "We didn't see you risk your life out there with us. Huh? Where were ya?"

"Probably munching on some Krispy Kremes." Mikey retorted.

"And who does this Vernon guy think he is?" Leo joined in, throwing a potato chip at the screen. "I feel bad for April."

***

April looked as if she could vomit in her mouth at any minute. Perhaps the only thing that would make her feel better about it would be throwing up on Vernon's charcoal suit. Instead, she took a deep breath and took her turn reporting when Vernon finally shut up.

"In other news, Techno Global Research Industries is now being merged with Stocktronics in order to combine research with robotics production at a more efficient rate. CEO Baxter Stockman announced his plans during a press conference earlier today."

The camera then, cut to a stern-looking African American man in his mid thirties standing behind a podium outside the Stocktronics headquarters. His black-rimmed Cooper glasses seemed to add to his intelligent appearance while his dark navy three-button Armani suit screamed with power and elegance. It was a bright and clear day outside and very beautiful if you could tolerate the noise of the traffic, which flowed down the street past the parking lot filled with Corvettes, BMWs, Porsches, and other cars businessmen were known to drive. The podium wasn't the only object accompanying Baxter. Next to him was a cubed-shaped object covered with a white sheet and behind him were several executives and TGRI scientists sitting in a row of chairs, all of them eager to know how the merger would impact their careers, especially the head scientist, Professor Jordan Perry. He began to listen to Baxter's speech with suspicion. He didn't know whether to be grateful or resentful as most employees do when change occurs.

"My goals are simply to advance society further than any politician, priest, or scientist has ever done. I believe that we, at Stocktronics, can provide what everyone needs that others cannot, and that is advancement, people, advancement to improve the world, as we know it. You see, New York City is known for its appalling crime rate. Tourists won't come anywhere near here; you can't even take a picture of the Christmas tree in the Rockefeller Center without getting stuck up for your wallet. We all need help. Even the police need help. That is where we step in. In fact, we are in development of what we are sure will be the solution to crime in New York City, and hopefully the nation."

Baxter pulled the sheet off to reveal a glass box containing what looked like a metallic dodo bird. The robot stood two feet tall; its head was shaped like a football, had a red visor for sight and a drill-like beak.

"Behold the Mouser! Made from the strongest of alloys, the Mouser can run at about 10 miles per hour, detect its target's body heat from a mile away and can drill through walls in seconds with its beak. Once it has found its target it will latch itself to him with a bite of 300 pounds of pressure. It could very much put the K9 units out of business."

One reporter stood up. "Dr. Stockman, are you aware that New York City is already protected by a group known as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

Other reporters nodded and clamored in agreement. Baxter's enthusiastic smile turned into a frown of disdain once the turtles were mentioned. Baxter hated turtles. He found nothing interesting about them other than the fact that they make a fine soup. Ever since he found out, along with the rest of New York City, that four six foot mutant turtles made their presence known at the Dockshore Club during one of Vanilla Ice's private performances (whom Baxter also hated) and earned a reputation as protectors of the Big Apple, his resentment for turtles only grew like a sunflower in spring.

"Yes, I am aware." he retorted, the same way you would retort to a smartass who corrects you for your mistake. "But my Mousers have a lifetime guarantee. How long do think the turtles will be around before something drastic happens to them?"

***

The TV shut off.

"Man, what a jerk!" said Leo as he placed the remote on the couch arm.

"Yeah. I think he's turtle-phobic." Mike retorted.

"Man, this guy seriously needs a lesson taught if he doesn't wise up." Spat Raph as he cracked his knuckles.

"If anyone should wise up around here, it's you, Raph." Don pointed out. "You didn't have to go wailing on that jarhead last night."

"He knocked me on my shell, Donny! What was I supposed to do?"

"Block him?"

Raph began to fume.

"You know what, Donny? How 'bout I shut that smart mouth of yours--"

Before Raph could make good on his threat, Leo got up to hold him back. They know what sets Raph off. It was like waiting for a time bomb to go off.

"Raphael!" a voice shouted.

The turtles knew who it was. Like Marines to a drill instructor, the three stood in attention (except Mikey who answered the phone). The voice came from Master Splinter, their longtime mentor and father figure. The rat trudged over to the boys.

"You boys must learn to channel your energy, for an enemy can exploit one's weakness or flaw without a second's hesitation. You must learn to…"

"Yeah, sure, we can do an interview. What time?" Mikey spoke into the phone. Ever since the incident at the nightclub, Mikey couldn't get enough media attention.

Splinter noticed Mikey talking on the phone. He picked up his Bruce Lee biography book.

"…learn to FOCUS!" Splinter yelled as he chucked the book at Mikey's skull. After getting it through his head that his master meant business, he hung up and joined his brothers.

"Sorry, sensei. That was Phil Thompson of Channel 6 News. He wants us to do another interview! Totally awesome!"

"Which brings me to my next point. Much to my chagrin, you boys have attracted far too much attention, even though I have stressed time and time again for you to remain hidden. The outside world would never understand you. Now that you are…celebrities, I ask you to not let this newfound fame be put ahead of what's important: the safety of others and this family. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master Splinter." The four said simultaneously.

"Good. Now practice some more! A true ninja's training is never finished."

The turtles groaned as they headed over to the training ground of the subway.

***

"I'm Vernon Fenwick, Channel 6 News."

"OK, that's a wrap!" Some Spielberg wannabe in the director's chair shouted.

At last, the cameras were off.

"Vernon, what were you doing?" April asked, steaming.

"Reporting the news, what do you think I was doing?"

"How about giving a biased opinion? You made the turtles look like criminals!"

"They needed no help from me. They did that themselves. They put a civil servant in the hospital, cost the city thousands of dollars worth of damage, and abused a suspect before authorities could take him into custody. If that doesn't make them criminals, I don't know what does."

"OK, Raph has a temper problem from time to time but they at least help send the yakuza back to Japanese jurisdiction and put away two of the country's most dangerous arms dealers. Put yourself in their place, how would you have handled it?"

"April, I have no time for this. Every member of the Channel 6 news team needs to be professional here, you especially. So if you expect to keep working here, I suggest that you report the news as it is and not justify these animals' antics. Got it?" asked Vernon as he walked away.

April grew even more pissed from his rhetoric. Why her boss, Phil Turner, hired Vernon was beyond her. His degree in Journalism from NYU might have done it but she didn't know that smugness could get someone hired too. She stormed to her office to get her purse and call it a day when she found a bouquet of roses and a box of Godiva chocolates on her desk. Taped to the bouquet was a note, which read:

_Dear April,_

_You've been such an inspiration to me this past year. I hope that our love will expand as much as our futures will. I know Valentine's Day has passed already. But then again, every day is Valentine's Day with you. I know roses and chocolates are completely cliché but hey, why not a valuable cliché? They're from Godiva._

_Yours truly, Baxter. XOXO_

April smiled warmly as she read the note. All her problems seem to melt away. Her fights with Vernon, her boss, everything. Soon, she heard the door shut and when she turned around, Prince Charming was standing in the corner. He was not dressed in shining armor but a navy blue Armani suit and glasses.

"Baxter!" April exclaimed, excited.

"You were expecting, maybe, Harrison Ford?" Dr. Stockman asked with a sly grin on his face.

April embraced and kissed him passionately like a cheerleader on a jock. She would take this nerd over Harrison Ford any day.

"So, are you excited about the wedding?" April asked after unlocking from Baxter's lips.

"Absolutely. By the way, who's going to be sitting on your side of the aisle?"

"Well, my parents are coming in from Boston, my best friend Irma, and the turtles."

Baxter's smile faded as he groaned.

"Now, I know you don't like turtles but give them a chance. Once you get to know them, they're really fun to be around. They're not the same ones that bit you when you were a kid. OK?"

"I know. Just have them promise me that there won't be any trouble, seeing as they usually get into it."

"Alright. Be nice you geek." said April playfully.

"I may be a geek but at least I've got a hot girl by my side."

The two kissed again, this time for longer. It seemed like eternal bliss for the soon-to-be-married couple.

***


	5. Chapter 4: Disturbed Peace

**Chapter 4: Disturbed Peace**

12:16am

All is quiet at the Peaceful Valley Trailer Court in Albany, New York. That is if you're willing to ignore the snoring from Old Man Tucker's camper and the orgasmic moans from Ben and Lisa's trailer. But in the far corner of the trailer park lies a dirty broken down Wilwood trailer that no one would go near. Its inhabitant was not much of a people person. Inside this trailer, several sports equipment lay all over the floor. Hockey sticks, baseball bats, golf clubs, lacrosse sticks, and cricket bats among other things. The owner of this collection was sleeping (or trying to) on a torn and moldy mattress. He turned and tossed and struggled to gain a good sleep. But the images in his head were not letting him.

In his dream, he saw himself in New York City late at night. Only instead of it being busy and bustling with people and taxis and buses, the streets were empty. The lights from all the buildings were on but there was no one in sight. Nobody but the young man with long hair.

"HELLO?" he called out.

No answer.

"ANYONE?"

Again, nothing. The young man couldn't understand it. Where the hell is everyone? Three million people don't just disappear. How did this happen? Was there some sort of—

_CASEY_

The young man turned around. No one was there. The voice was low, cold and thunderous.

"Who's there?"

_CASEY_

At this time, he wished he didn't call out for anyone. As much as he despised cops, he was hoping one would answer his call. Or at least a bum or a thug. Anyone without that horrible voice would have been a savior to him. Suddenly, all of the lights from building to shop to restaurant began to shut off. Oh my God, Casey thought.

_CASEY!!!!_

The voice was so loud, all the windows of the buildings and parked cars shattered. Glass flew everywhere. Casey shielded himself from the shards that landed on him. Some even sliced him a bit.

Casey began to run. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Where? He had no idea. He figured that if he could get a million miles away from this guy, he could at least have a breather. Casey ran as if he had just robbed a Conoco station and was caught in the act by six armed officers. He ran and ran and ran until he found an empty laundromat to hide in. With the front window shattered, Casey leapt through and went straight for the back door. He went into the storage room filled with detergents and forgotten clothes and hid in a corner in hopes that not even God himself would see him.

What the hell was that? Casey thought.

_CRASH_

Two muscular arms burst through the brick wall Casey was sitting against and wrapped themselves around him to pull him through. Casey struggled to break free of them but his attempts were futile. The wall finally gave in and Casey was pulled through and thrown hard to the ground. As Casey fought to pull himself back up, he realized that something was different. He wasn't outside Luigi's Laundromat, but on top of a thirty-story building. His attacker towered over him. He wore a metallic samurai helmet with a steel mask that covered his mouth, similar to that of a ninja's, a purple bodysuit, and razor-edged plates protecting his shoulders, forearms, and shins.

"Shredder? UGH!"

Before Casey could do anything, the Shredder kicked him in the gut so hard he flew back and landed near the edge of the building. Before he could get up, Shredder lifted him up and threw him over the edge. On the way down, Casey screamed for what felt like an eternity. He saw every broken window he fell past and wished he could just reach out and grab a jagged edge. A bloody hand seemed better to Casey than a broken body. As he fell, he looked down and saw a huge black metallic box, big enough to hold a mountain of trash. Casey fell into its huge gaping top and landed on a pile of stinking rotting garbage. While he attempted to regain composure again, a huge load of torn magazines, wadded up newspapers, rotten food, and other things that are usually found in a dump, poured down on top of him. Casey found himself pinned.

Buried.

Trapped.

"Remember me, Casey?" he heard Shredder ask in his thunderous voice.

"Does this look familiar? Oops!"

Casey heard a mechanical whirring and began to panic. He struggled and struggled but could not escape his filthy prison. He was as doomed as a mouse in a house full of cats. He felt the garbage get tighter all over his body. He felt it squeezing.

Suffocating.

Crushing.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Casey swung his arms around and felt nothing. He looked around and saw that all the garbage that surrounded him was gone. Except for the garbage left on the floor along with his sports equipment. Casey let out a sigh of relief once he realized that he was in his trailer again. But then again, his relief melted away. How long was he going to live with this? How many more nightmares must he have? Casey had never valued his sanity more than he did right now. He knew where he had to go.

* * *

Palumbo Island. Located 83 miles away from Liberty Island, it is home to some of the most dangerous convicts in New York. Outside, the guards keep watch of anyone who wishes to jump the electric fence just for ten seconds of freedom. Which would be pretty pointless considering that even if they somehow got over the fence, they would have to swim for it. They had plenty of ammunition in their rifles to make sure no one in population gets a second outside the big house. Inside, the lights were out and population lay in their beds dreaming and wondering what's happening on the outside. All 13,216 of them in orange jumpsuits and numbers for names were either serving time or awaiting trial because nobody they knew could afford their bail, let alone the crimes they did. Among the hardcore thieves, drug runners, and murderers were two very unstable cons who were thankful for New York not having the death penalty. In a second story cell, they lay asleep, wondering what tomorrow was in store for them. They were both looking at life sentences for the things they did and no forgiving soul would pay them out.

"Hey, Tracy!" one con whispered from his bottom bunk.

"Mm. What do you want, Leon?" Tracy asked, annoyed. He was still feeling the effects of getting his head slammed into a street and all he wanted was some sleep.

"What say you and I run this joint? Anybody who thinks he's bigger than anyone else here has to go through us. What do you say?"

"Fine, fine. I was planning on that anyway. Now go to sleep."

Leon only went to sleep because he was tired, not because Tracy told him to.

As the guard in the control room sat in his chair, he became bored with the lack of activity going on through the monitor screens of the surveillance cameras. At this time of night, nothing happened, but he continued to watch the guards march up and down, ready to pull their nightsticks out on anyone in orange who feels like acting up. He took a sip of his coffee to prevent dozing off. He only had a few more hours left on his shift but he wanted to go home really bad. After working a shift as long as his, who wouldn't?

Outside, the guards in the towers watched carefully around the perimeter for any unwanted activity. Their searchlights scaled the ocean for any unwelcome ships. Out of boredom, one guard took out a pack of Marlboros and lit one up. As soon as he let out puff of smoke, he felt two hands grab his head from behind and twist. CRACK. His body hit the platform and that was it. The same occurred to the guard in the next tower. And the next, and the next until there was no one standing in the towers except the ninjas that snuck in.

At the entrance gate, another guard was reading a newspaper article, which featured Tracy and Leon's mug shots, about their arrest when several black armored trucks pulled up.

"Aw, what are these guys doing here?" the guard asked himself annoyed.

As he opened the door, he was suddenly met with a shuriken to his forehead. He fell with his body keeping the door open. A ninja quickly stepped out of a truck and into the booth. He wore a solid black outfit with a red bandana around his masked head. Soon, the gate was open and the truck drove in.

During this time, the guard in the control room just finished his coffee when he noticed the gate opening to let the truck in through one of the black and white screens. He reached for his walkie-talkie.

"Jack, what are you doing? We weren't scheduled to take in any prisoners today, especially this time of night."

He waited for an explanation but got nothing.

"Jack, are you there?"

No answer.

"Jack, answer me!"

Suddenly, a wall in the prison came tumbling down and among the debris were the armored trucks all forming a line. The prisoners awoke. The alarm sounded as guards spilled out to the first floor to confront the offending drivers. Soon, the trucks' back doors opened, several ninjas poured out and a huge fight broke out. On all three floors, the guards were completely outnumbered and overpowered. The inmates cheered as the guards were punched, kicked, flipped and broken by the Foot Clan. No matter how skilled the guards were with their nightsticks, they were no match for martial artists with shuriken, katana swords, staffs, and nun chucks.

"YEAH! BEAT HIS ASS! HELL YEAH!" the inmates shouted. They were happier than fat kids in a bakery watching the guards who oppressed them getting what they thought they deserved. The Foot had the upper hand until more guards got to the armory. There, they equipped themselves with helmets, body armor, tear gas, and assault rifles. They were trained to handle any situation ranging from a few unruly prisoners to full-scale riots but never in a million years did they think they would deal with ninjas. Nonetheless, they exited the armory and sprinted into the cellblock. But when they began to form defense positions all over, they were greeted with, yet, another surprise. Not only did the Foot retreat behind the armored trucks, but also standing in front was the most horrifying man they would ever see. Standing seven feet tall, wearing a metallic samurai helmet, and razor edged plates on his muscular frame was Super Shredder himself.

"READY!"

"AIM!"

"Fools." Shredder uttered.

"FIRE!"

When the anti-riot squad fired their rifles at Shredder, their bullets hit nothing as Shredder teleported from floor to floor in the cellblock until their clips were empty. As they attempted to reload, Shredder raised his hands above his head, forming a ball of electrical energy. Then, the roof suddenly collapsed as a huge bolt of lightning crashed through and struck every place the squad members were positioned on the third floor. Bodies flew into the cell doors and onto the first floor with several thuds and final groans. Shredder, then teleported to the second floor, and raised his arms to send a stream of fire from the entire ground, inflaming the squad. The men screamed and writhed in pain as they burned inside their so-called protective uniforms until they were charred to a crisp.

As he teleported to the ground floor, the guards there continued to fire. The bullets had no effect as Shredder moved so swiftly, the only parts of him that were hit were his helmet and plates which sparked as the futile pieces of lead grazed him. Several squad members charged at Shredder head on with nightsticks.

Bad idea.

As one guard tried to bludgeon Shredder, his attack was blocked and he was kicked five yards away. Another tried the same thing but was chopped in the neck and down he went, paralyzed. A handful of squad members tried to attack him at once but with one powerful swipe, that handful went flying across the room with broken bones.

As the squad tried to reload, Shredder put his hands together, forming a glowing green ball of energy before sending into a group of squad men clustered together in a group formation. It reminded one guard of the video game, Street Fighter II, he bought for his son's birthday, where the guy in the karate gi shoots a blue fireball at his opponent. He never thought anything like that would be possible until tonight. As the deadly energy ball hit the squad men, they were reduced to a puddle of some liquid-like state on the floor. Their shields, uniforms, and helmets lay there in a drenched pile. This was repeated until the last squad member was nothing more than a puddle of primordial goo.

He sloshed through what was left of the guards until he reached the control room. He tore the door off and found a guard hiding under the desk. Terrified. After watching the entire ordeal on the monitors, he was on the brink of losing his mind. Shredder placed his hands together. A cold, icy mist gathered around him to form in his gloved hands until it was released into the frightened young man. He sat there, literally frozen in fear.

The inmates applauded the grand spectacle until a voice came over the P.A. system. The voice was low but demonic and thunderous.

_Silence! I am your liberator! You all have been put here because the world does not understand you! You have attempted to live lives of power and glory but have been denied by a cruel and thoughtless society! But I have come to shatter your chains and give you that power! I have come to break your shackles, give you glory and so much more! I can help you become more powerful than anyone in history has ever dreamed to be! All that I ask for in return is your full submission! Join my new army and together, we will make the world that wronged you, pay dearly! What is your decision?_

The inmates cheered a thunderous cheer. They cheered louder than Yankee fans at the World Series. Normally, the idea of submitting and obeying every order someone gives you, sounds demeaning. Who could blame them? That's all the inmates have been doing since the day they were brought through the front gate. But this was different. The one they would obey would give them freedom. But that wasn't all. Not only would they be free but they would be part of movement that would give them power and glory beyond their wildest dreams, a movement that would strike against an unfair system of lies and deceit. It felt like a late-night infomercial. A salesman would tell you all about his brand new too-good-to-true product and right when you're already fascinated, he hits you with the _But wait, there's more!_ routine.

The cell doors opened. The armored trucks were loaded as they drove out to the edge of the island. When they reached the water, the drivers flipped a switch and each of the trucks changed into submarines. They headed out back to the Big Apple to carry out their ultimate plan. Inside on of the subs, Tracy looked over to Leon.

"I guess we don't need to worry about who's in charge now."


	6. Chapter 5: Unwelcome Visitor

**Chapter 5: Unwelcome Visitor**

"That's it, April. You got it, come on! Show me what you got!" shouted Leo as he blocked every shot from April's Kanabo war club with his padded forearms. Soon, Mikey came up from behind but was met with a quick heel kick to the gut. That's when Donny tried to attack with his bo staff but was blocked and flipped over on his shell. Finally, the training session was over. Raph would have been participating but still had some steam to blow off on the punching bag.

"Alright! You're getting better, April." Leo commented as he high-fived her.

"Thanks." April said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "I just don't want people holding me up for my purse or for ransom anymore."

"Hey don't worry." Donny managed to say from the concrete "If you can floor one of us, you won't have trouble with anyone else."

"Thanks Donny." April said as she helped him up. Soon, a somewhat familiar figure was seen standing near the training ground applauding.

"Dang babe, you know how to kick some ass!" he exclaimed.

A look of surprise appeared on everyone's face, especially April's. She felt like a kid who just saw her father come home after leaving her and her family for years and he expects her to welcome him with open arms.

"I'll see you guys later." April said, grabbing her gym bag and heading for the exit. Casey tried to stop her.

"Wait a minute, April. I know you're upset with me and you've got every r-"

"Upset's not even the goddamn word for how I feel about you!" April spat as she headed out.

"April!"

Casey sighed disappointedly. The look on the turtles' faces didn't make him feel any better.

"You can't blame her for feeling that way, Casey." Leo told him. "You bailed on her. You bailed on all of us."

"Yeah, dude. Thanks for having our backs when we were getting thrown around by Tokka and Rahzar!" Mikey retorted.

"Wait, who?" Casey asked confused.

"Yeah!" Raph joined in "And where were you when we almost got killed by Shredder?"

Casey's eyebrows rose. "Shredder?! What are you talking about? Shredder's dead. I crushed that bastard in that garbage truck three years ago. Remember?"

"Well, apparently you should have finished him off otherwise we wouldn't have had to deal with him again…by ourselves!" Donny told him.

"Enough!" Splinter cried "Casey, may I ask why you felt the need to leave?"

"Look, in a nutshell, I just got fed up with all the crime and I wanted a fresh start in life. So I packed up and moved to Albany."

"Oh I get it, so you figured that with us doing your dirty work, you didn't have to stick around anymore, huh? IS THAT IT?!" Raph flared.

"Raphael! Control your anger!" Splinter commanded. Raph did so by taking a deep breath. Splinter faced Casey again. "So why have you returned?"

Casey sighed. "I came back because…" he hesitated "…'cause I want to make it up to you guys. Come on, I'll do anything, I'll buy you guys some pizza. I know! We can go bust some skulls tonight. What do you say?" he asked nervously.

"I tell you what." Leo said "Give us help when we need it, like you PROMISED, and then we'll think about being seen with you."

The turtles gave him one last glare before heading back to the training grounds.

"Ah, jeez." Casey muttered shaking his head. Splinter walked toward him.

"You did give your word to help us in need, Casey." He assured.

Casey nodded in shame.

***

March 25, 1993 8:13pm

Techno Global Research Industries, or TGRI to those who don't feel like saying much, has been one of the most successful (and controversial) corporations in America. When they first formulated a mutagen that was said to enhance the abilities of all living beings, production was in immediate effect. However, when it was first tested on plants, the results were drastic. The plants used were Venus flytraps and after being injected with the mutagen, they became larger and deadlier than before. In fact, they were large enough to swallow human beings whole. One such incident occurred when one flytrap ate a scientist while he attempted to tame in. Those who witnessed said it was like watching an unfortunate monkey trying to escape the jaws of a crocodile. The executives told his family that he was killed while exposed to deadly chemicals and paid them compensation. As we all know, sometimes the truth is best not heard. Instead of getting rid of it, TGRI decided to get rid of the mutagen. So they packed a truck full with as much as they could in canisters and have it dump it some place where no one and nothing could touch it. As the truck raced through the streets of New York City on that hot August day, the door suddenly burst open and one canister slipped out and fell into a sewer. Nobody knew what happened to it and nobody cared either (except for the four turtles and rat that would soon discover it an unknown time later).

But the effects of the ooze would not remain a secret for long. Front pages of newspapers would tell of four martial arts trained turtles, a snapping turtle, a wolf, and the mayhem they left behind. Congress, then passed a law prohibiting anyone from manufacturing or possessing such substances again. Failure to comply would result in a life sentence. In the eyes of the law, the mutagen was as dangerous as radium. Professor Jordan Perry, who served as spokesman and head scientist, was more than happy when the law was passed, for he had seen firsthand the effects of the ooze, and disposed of every last drop like he intended to. Now Perry has dedicated himself to TGRI's computer science division. It was tough and tedious but as long as it didn't involve anything to do with life forms, he was happy. Plus it paid more.

While familiarizing himself with the computability theory on the internet (which Perry hoped would improve greatly soon) he heard the lab door open behind him.

"Professor Perry." A voice called. Perry turned around and faced his new boss.

"Hello Dr. Stockman, what brings you here, tonight?" Perry asked nervously.

"Well, I thought I'd come down here and get a hands-on experience of our new project." Stockman said slyly.

"Well everything's going according to plan but I appreciate your enthusiasm, sir."

"No no no no. I'm talking about a new project. Cancel whatever you were working on because I have plans for something very revolutionary."

Perry was confused. "What are you talking about?"

Stockman took his hands from behind his back and pulled out in front of him something Perry was not expecting to see, or even wanted to see: a vial of a glowing green substance.

"Is that what I think it is?!" Perry asked alarmed.

"If you're thinking that this is the mutagen I hear this company used to brew, then yes." Stockman stated.

"Where did you get that?"

"Let's just say I have connections outside the scientific community."

"What do you plan on using that for?"

"Well, after hearing about the mutagen's benefits of enhancing physical characteristics of any life form it comes into contact with, I felt that it was time to use it to its full potential."

"With all due respect, sir, that mutagen has been banned."

Stockman brought the vial up to Perry's face. "I am aware of that, Professor Perry, however in order to get anywhere in life, you have to be willing to bend the rules from time to time. Now, I know you're aware of the harmful effects this ooze caused but I found a way to modify the formula. Not only can it enhance the physical characteristics of any living thing but MENTAL as well. We can even splice it with the DNA of any creature and give it to another! We now have a chance to create the most superior beings that ever walked this planet since the dinosaurs!" he said excitedly and wide-eyed. But Perry was not about to budge.

"Dr. Stockman, I will not participate in whatever you have planned with that…that…slime! It is dangerous and will bring nothing but harm. You can expect my resignation form now!" Perry spat as he stormed toward the door. But as soon as he opened it, a giant hand from the other side grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him up. Soon the giant figure holding Perry walked into the lab. Its metallic plates protecting its shoulders, forearms, and shins glistened from the overhead lights.

"..(gasp)…Shredder…!" Perry managed to say before being thrown several feet into his workstation. At that moment, several men clad in black outfits with red bandanas stormed into the lab along with an army of murderers, rapists, and robbers led by two muscular arms dealers in street clothes. They all surrounded Perry as he sat up, holding his ribs.

"Master Shredder has told me how stubborn you were when he needed your assistance." said Stockman. "As you can see, he is a living testimony of the mutagen's potential."

Super Shredder stepped forward. "And now that I have someone who will willingly fulfill my goal, I have no need for you!" he bellowed.

Perry looked at his former captor and then his boss, who was now holding a rectangular device that looked like a remote. Stockman pressed a button and a door from the far end of the lab opened, raising like a door you'd find on a garage. From the darkness of the now open door came mechanical whirring and whining similar to drills. Perry looked over and saw several metallic beings walk from out of the dark.

Mousers. Dozens of them.

Perry got up to run, but two Foot soldiers grabbed him by his arms and pulled him towards the Mousers. He struggled and pleaded to the best of his ability but his efforts were in vain. He loomed closer and closer to the machines as their horrific drill-like jaws opened and snapped shut like hippos' mouths waiting to be fed. Perry, frightened as a child in a dentist's office, was thrown to the ground near the Mousers and they bit and tore into the scientist like piranhas. Perry let out a bloodcurdling scream while the criminals, the Foot clan, Dr. Stockman, and Super Shredder looked on in sick amusement.

April 15, 1993 12:41pm

The rain poured ferociously down on Washington Memorial Cemetery. But even if the sun was shining, it would not brighten anyone's day. Under black umbrellas, Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter, April, and Dr. Stockman stood around the mahogany casket which contained Professor Jordan Perry's remains as it was lowered six feet into the ground. Even Danny Pennington and Keno Reyes came by to give their condolences to April. Above it, the headstone read:

In Memory of

Jordan Rufus Perry

1941-1993

Loved and missed by all

With the exception of Stockman, tears streamed down the faces of those surrounding the casket. After Danny and Keno gave April a hug and left, another old friend approached her. His street clothes and his hair were drenched.

"April, I'm..."

Before Casey could finish, April walked away with her fiancé following her. Casey swore to himself. The turtles glared at him before walking away as well. Quickly, Casey grabbed Raph's arm.

"I'm gonna find who did this. OK?"

"Don't bother. We'll handle it." He said, yanking his arm away "Besides, we wouldn't want you to get all caught up in this crime now, would we?"

As Raph walked away with his brothers, Splinter looked at Casey and walked back to the limo. Casey sighed. He wasn't about to lose a friendship that easy.

***


	7. Chapter 6: Attempt at Redemption

I'd like to point out that I'm very sorry for holding out and stalling for so long. I just haven't felt inspired to write as of late. I'll try to be a little more attentive from now on.

**Chapter 6: Attempt at Redemption**

April 17, 1993 6:00pm

Lights, camera, action.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Vernon Fenwick and you're watching Channel 6 News. In tonight's top story, a heist has occurred at the Big Apple National Bank and no one knows who's responsible. Why the turtles didn't even manage to stop them is beyond me but I digress. Police say they found surveillance footage distorted and entire vaults empty, leaving thousands of customers frustrated. How is it that one of the largest banks in New York gets cleaned out in one night with no trace of the perpentrators? Let's go to April O'Neil, who's live at the scene. April?"

The camera cut to April, who had a very disturbed look on her face after hearing Vernon's last comment, standing outside the bank's entrance with a microphone labeled CHANNEL 6 along with about at least a few hundred angry customers all wanting to know the state of their life savings, children's college funds, and weekly earnings. She composed herself and prepared for the worst.

"Well, Vernon, I'm standing outside Big Apple National Bank and as you can see behind me, several customers are frustrated to hear that all of their money has been stolen."

One man took a break from shouting obscenities at the bank that once held his earnings and turned his head when he overheard April and went towards her. His fat, hairy hand snatched the microphone out hers.

"Frustrated?! 'Frustrated's not even the word for it. I'm pissed off to the max right now!" He snapped in his thick Brooklyn accent. "Some of us have it hard enough just to work our fingers to the bone in order to keep our homes and our families fed, and then this happens! You know how much money I had in that bank?"

Some of the angry customers took notice of the man's words. Before April could even answer with 'I don't know', she was interrupted with "Four thousand three hundred and fifty seven dollars and forty two freakin' cents! I would've been able to get my son a new bike for his birthday if only those freakin' turtles did their jobs and stopped whoever did this!"

"Well, sir, how was anyone supposed to know that this would happen?"

"Look, don't make excuses for them, the turtles are supposed to be better than the cops at this kind of thing. We put our trust in them to make our city safe and now most of our life savings are in the hands of criminals!"

As he was ranting, a couple of police officers approached him and grabbed him by the arms.

"OK sir, move along." One of them said as he turned his anger and attention towards the cameraman, who at this point was worried that he might get fired for letting this guy get airtime.

"If you turtles are watching this, you better get your heads out o' your shells and start doing what you're supposed to: Putting scumbags in prison and out of our bank accounts!" he yelled as he was dragged away from April. Applause in agreement followed from onlookers and customers alike. Frustrated, April looked back at the camera. "OK, back to you, Vernon."

"Thank you, April. I can't help but sympathize for those people. Penniless when this heist could've been prevented. In other news, still no clues as to who was responsible for the massive prison break at Palumbo Island…"

Before the rest of the report could be heard, the TV shut off as a result of Raphael's angry reptilian finger hitting the POWER button on the remote.

"Jeez! What is everybody's problem?" He asked, bitter.

"It's like they expect us to fix every single problem 24/7 and when something we don't even know about goes wrong, we get dissed. We may as well run for president. You know?" Mikey responded.

"I don't know, maybe we should try harder." Donny said, ashamed. "One robbed bank is one failure too many in my book."

"Donny, we didn't know that Big Apple National Bank was gonna get hit. This is nothing to beat yourself up over."

"Well if someone can rob a bank that easy, you can bet that they'll do it again. And this time, we need to be ready." Leo stated sternly. "No more mistakes. From now on, everyone will do what I say, when I say. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, yeah." Raph said.

"Yeah, sure." said Mikey on the phone. "That'd be awesome! We'll be at Coney Island! Oh yeah, autographs for the kids, pictures, and definitely a go on the Cyclone! That's totally a given."

"Mike!" Leo shouted.

"Oh, gotta go. Later." Mikey said as he hung up.

"I mean it, guys! Every second that goes by, another crime is being planned. Now the Big Apple National Bank was just one of the three new large-scale banks that opened recently and we have to make sure the other two don't get hit."

"How do we know which one might get hit next?" Mikey asked.

"I'll figure that out. I could whip up some motion sensor alarms and place them in the other two banks. I wish I had one for Big Apple." Donny said.

"No time to mope about it now, get working on them." Leo commanded.

"Yeah and when you're done with them, I hope they actually let you in." Raph told Donny.

As April walked back to her apartment, she could not get the bitter taste of disdain she had for Vernon's reports from her mouth. Except maybe the frozen pizza she had left over in the fridge but even that might not be a success. Besides, it was much too easy for her to lose her appetite after listening to Vernon. She headed upstairs trying to force the image of Vernon's smug face out of her head. Her efforts were vain until she got to her apartment door. It was open.

She remembered clearly that she closed and locked it before leaving for work. A whole line of frightening questions raced through her mind. How did they get the door open when it was locked? Has anything been taken? Is anyone still inside? Remembering her training, she took a deep breath and regained composure. Along with a lot of other people in New York City, April O'Neil has been of victim of its crime rate but unlike most, she decided that she was tired of being a victim. And she had her four turtle and rat friends to thank.

Slowly, April approached the door and peered into the darkness as best she could. She reached for the light switch but changed her mind. Splinter had trained her to trust her other senses. In the dark, she could tell where everything was and could even hear a fly rubbing its wings; two things no two-bit burglar could do. April even shut and locked the door as she slipped in. Now the creep can't leave.

April moved slowly around the living room, careful not to bump into the furniture. She still had that to work on. She moved and felt around for anything or anyone unfamiliar. Woe to anyone that April feels for the consequences they receive would be dire.

_CLANK_

What was that, she thought. It came from upstairs. She slipped off her heels and started up the stairs as slowly and quietly as possible. Her hand, gripping the railing, guided her as she went up the spiral staircase, approaching the intruder just as a lioness would approach her prey. When April got to the top, she walked past her bed, gripped the crystal knob of her bathroom door, carefully turned it, and opened the door.

April stepped in and stood on the maroon rug which lay on the center of the bathroom floor. Her eyes remained closed as she tried to listen for unnatural activity. At first, all she could was her own breathing. So she took a deep breath and listened. There was a faint but audible thumping sound in the same room as her.

_THUMP…THUMP…THUMP…THUMP…THUMP…THUMP…THUMP_

A heartbeat

It was a steady rhythm at first. But soon, it began to go faster and faster until…

_COUGH_

April looked towards the bathtub, and gave a huge spin kick to the shower curtain.

"UGH!"

April's foot connected with the torso of the intruder hiding in the bathtub. She threw the shower curtain away, grabbed the downed intruder, and monkey flipped him into the bedroom. As the perp tried to get up, April set him up and gave him a flurry of punches and kicks that sent him tumbling down the stairs. April followed him down and waited for him to stand. When he did, April threw another punch but it was blocked and countered with a hip toss.

What? This guy has training, too? April thought surprised.

The intruder tried to mount April but was hit with a legsweep, sending him to the floor. April grabbed his hand and locked him in an armbar. Then the intruder managed to lift her up and slam her down to get her to let go. But April rolled away, stood up and unleashed another flurry. But it was blocked with a flurry of punches and kicks of the intruder's own. This went on for a while until April nailed the intruder with a spinning wheel kick, sending him sprawling.

As the perp groaned, April ran straight for the lights. She wanted to see exactly who she was fighting. Was it some well-trained thug, or worse, another member of the Foot clan? She remembered very well getting attacked by both, with nothing to defend herself with but her purse. As she turned on the lights, she could not believe who she saw getting up while wiping the blood away from his nose.

"CASEY?!"

"Yeah, babe. It's me." He said shamefully.

"What the hell are you doing here?! Don't you know I could have killed you?!" April screamed.

"Another five minutes and you could have." Casey commented

"You know I can have you arrested for this! You broke into my home!"

"Well yeah, 'cause I figured that would be the only way I could get your attention so I can talk to you."

"About what?"

"About why I left!"

April calmed down a bit but now her disdain was turned from Vernon to Casey. He looked at her genuinely with his hands up in defense.

"Look, the reason why I left the city is because I wanted to start a new life. One without any more crime and I wanted to ask you if..."

"If what?"

Casey knew what he wanted to ask but didn't feel right if he did.

"…if we'd…start over." He managed to say

April huffed. "I don't know, Casey. I mean, after you crushed Shredder in that garbage truck, you promised that you'd be there for us when we needed you. Then you just up and leave without so much as a goodbye when Shredder came back. Besides, I'm engaged." She said, showing him her ring.

Casey sighed in disappointment. "Alright. I'll get out of your hair now."

April watched sadly as Casey walked out the door, shutting it on the way out. She walked up to the peephole to see her former friend look back, shake his head, and then walk down the stairs with his head down. His long bangs prevented her from seeing the sad expression on his face. She pressed her back against the door and sobbed.


	8. Chapter 7: Rumble in the Bank

**Chapter 7: Rumble in the Bank**

April 18, 1993 12:18am

La Guardia Memorial Bank is the 2nd largest of the three newly opened banks in New York City. Named after one of the city's greatest mayors, Fiorello La Guardia, for his efforts of leading New York to recovery during the Great Depression, its three floors of marble, walls of concrete and wooden furnishings gave the bank a traditional sense of class and power. The security cameras installed in every corner of the bank and the vaults watched for any unusual activity to ensure not one cent gets taken from the vaults.

Until tonight.

Suddenly, all of the screens that surveyed the bank's interior showed nothing but static. The eight security guards noticed this just as they were waking up from their naps. Before any of them could react, eight green beams shot through the doorway and soon, there were eight piles of goo drenching empty security attire.

Inside each of the vaults, a mechanical whirring noise could be heard beneath the steel floors, followed by a louder buzz. Bright orange lines began to form in a square on the floor and after a shower of sparks sprayed from below the molten steel, the steel square was lifted out of the way for a group of Mousers to crawl out. As they climbed up from the hole, they began to gather as many sums of cash as they could in their metallic mouths. Their bear trap-like teeth were careful enough not to pierce the packed green Benjamins as each of them began to scatter back down into their freshly dug tunnel.

_CLANK_

The Mousers turned their attention towards the door. They detected body heat from four different directions outside. Suddenly, the vault door swung open and every Mouser stepped outside to confront…..no one.

There was no one outside the vault. Had the devices that granted their heat detections malfunc-

_CRSHZZZZZZZZ!!!!_

Suddenly, a sai went straight through one Mouser's head and sparks sizzled and sprayed from its fractures like fireworks on the 4th of July. Its vision crackled with static and its red eyes dimmed to black.

"COWABUNGA!"

The turtles, then, leapt into view and the fight was on. As each Mouser went for them, they were decimated one by one. Leo sliced, diced and decapitated all Mousers that came within slicing range of his katana swords. Raph grabbed his other sai from the broken Mouser and began to impale, kick, and swipe anything metal that came his way. Mikey knocked some out into new flying patterns with his nunchucks. Donny did the same with his bo staff as many of them lunged at him. But like the genius he was, he outwitted and mastered the machines.

Mikey seemed to be having the most fun. "Hey guys, you think they might want a Milk Bone? Ha ha ha!"

But one Mouser latched onto Donny's arm. Its bite rivaled that of a pit bull's and hurt like hell.

"AAAAHHH!! GET THE HELL OFF ME YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!" Donny screamed trying to swing and smack it off into the bank's columns while fending off other Mousers. But then a swipe from Leo's katana cut the robot in half and its head flew off afterwards.

"Watch yourself, Donny!" Leo snapped, trying to keep other Mousers off himself.

For the next few minutes, Donny and the other turtles did watch themselves until every last Mouser outside the vault was a steaming, sparking pile of scrap metal. Inside, more Mousers continued to scoop up more cash and take it with them down the hole. Before the turtles could rush in to take them apart as well, a small black ball came from out of nowhere, landed near the vault and an explosion of fire and smoke followed. The turtles coughed and swatted the smoke away to reveal several dozen men in black outfits and red bandanas.

"The Foot!" Mikey yelled to his brothers.

They were all brandishing swords, staffs, sai, chucks, kamas, tonfas, Escrima sticks, stars, knives and every other possible weapon the Far East ever built. The turtles brandished their weapons as well and stood in defense.

"Let's dance." said Raph

The Foot clan charged them and a full scale battle was on. Leo blocked a battle axe from behind with his katana swords, kicked a ninja in the face between his raised arms as he sprinted with a kanabo club above his head, wheeled around, elbowed the ax man in the gut, and gave him a powerful pump kick before blocking a chucker and head-butting him.

Donny took on two Foot soldiers wielding kamas by slamming both ends of his bo staff into their guts, twirling it into one's temple and then the other's neck, and taking them down. Then, he slammed the staff into another charging ninja's back, sending him headfirst into one of the banks columns.

One soldier tried to take a swing at Mikey with his Eskrima sticks but instead received a legsweep. Mike, then leapt over to a counter and two clansmen holding spears ran to impale him. So he tangled the spears with his chucks and spun them around like a playground wheel. After dizzying them, he took one out by kneeing him in the gut and swiping the other with his free chuck. One ninja nearly sliced Mikey's head off with a katana. But like the crafty turtle he was, he ducked his head into his shell and sent him flying back with a kick to the chest.

"Loan denied, dude! Ha ha ha! Hiya!"

Raph backhanded one soldier from behind and gave another a 360 degree crescent kick. One tried to bludgeon Raph with his tonfas but got tangled in his sais and flipped on his back with a crunch. As another ninja came at Raph with a dagger, he flipped one sai upside down, blocked the blade with the other, and used the blunt end of the first sai as an extra knuckle in his right cross punch to knock the masked clansman out for the count.

As Mikey swiped two other ninjas with his chucks, one clansman on the second floor took cover at the railing, loaded his Yabusame bow, aimed for Mikey's round green head, pulled back and…

_CRACK_

The archer felt a sharp pain in his back as he flipped over the railing and down through a desk. The arrow vaulted through the air and pierced the floor near Leo as he spin kicked a ninja with a battle axe. Looking where the arrow came from was a fallen ninja lying on a broken pile of wood that once was a desk, and above on the second floor, stood a long haired man in a hockey mask holding a hockey stick.

"Casey!" Leo exclaimed with a glare.

Casey quickly glanced to his right and slammed his stick into a charging ninja's skull before nailing another with a knee to the gut. When he saw a group of clansmen charging towards him, he mounted the railing and leapt off and landed onto two more that were trying to wear down Raph. He looked up smiling at Raph's unimpressed face.

"Miss me?"

"LOOK OUT!" Raph screamed. Casey looked up to see a soldier holding a spear raise his arms. Right then, Casey blocked the possible impalement and Raph nailed the offender with a flying jump kick. The unfortunate ninja let out a loud yell as he flew back, sprawled out on the floor.

The battle raged on and on between the turtles, Casey and the Foot until only five were left standing. And none of them were wearing red bandanas, except Raph of course.

"Alright, Casey!" said Mikey as he high-fived the masked vigilante.

"Whoo, yeah! Just like old times right?" Casey exclaimed, removing his mask.

"Hold it!" Leo shouted "Casey, what the hell are you doing here?!"

"Giving you guys a hand, what does it look like? I heard about the robbery, figured you guys might take up the opportunity to catch whoever's doing it, and to be honest I was afraid that it might be at the Gold Standard Bank."

"At what point in time did we ask for your help? I told you that you can help us if we need it and we didn't."

"Aw come on, Leo! Cut him a break." Donny told him

"No! I'm the leader here and what I say goes." He turned back to Casey "And I say you leave us alone from on, got it?"

As Leo continued to scold Casey, Mikey noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It stood in the doorway of the open vault with its visor like eyes beaming.

"Get it!" Leo commanded

Casey and the turtles sprinted towards the metallic creature but as soon as they reached the doorway, it had already leapt down the hole it helped dig. And none of them were small enough to chase it through the groundhog-like tunnel.

"Aw, damn it! Why didn't you guys stop it?!" Leo shouted at his brothers.

"Dude, mellow out!" Mikey told him defensively.

"I'll mellow out when you start doing your job right! Everything's a joke to you, Mikey!"

Raph intervened. "Why don't you quit being such a hardass, Leo? You could have…"

_BOOM_

A tall, cloaked figure leapt from the second floor railing and landed hard on the marble floor. Astonished looks swept over the turtles' faces. Standing on cracked marble before them was the same figure they thought died under a collapsed dock.

"Shredder!" Raph exclaimed.

"No Raph, like I said before, it's a Super Shredder!" Donny told him, nervously.

Casey was more terrified than any of the turtles. Towering over him was the very thing that he tried to crush in a garbage truck. Well not exactly; this beast was almost three times bigger and worse than what has been haunting his dreams for the past two years, and real too. At this point, he'd rather be a 9-year old kid watching Friday the 13th movies late at night against his parents' wishes than standing in front of a real monster. He turned around and sprinted for the emergency exit. He expected to be blasted in the back and hit the floor dead as he ran. But he thanked his lucky stars when he had enough life in him to ram the push pad of the door and disappear into the night.

"CASEY!" the turtles yelled in protest.

"Never mind that coward! He will be dead soon enough, along with the rest of the pathetic human race!" Shredder bellowed. "But since you turtles have caused me so much trouble, you die NOW!!!" He clasped his hands together as a red beam formed between them. The turtles dodged out of the way as the scorching fireball shot past them and into the vault, torching all of the untouched cash.

Red blasts, blue blasts, and green blasts flew everywhere as the five warriors did their best dodging, avoiding and leaping all over the bank to find coverage. Chunks of marble, concrete, wood, steel, and glass rained down followed by huge clouds of dust. Then, Shredder formed his hands together again and a huge yellow beam began to form. The turtles—that at this time were on the third floor—looked from the balcony and watched as Shredder raised his muscular arms up and released an electrical beam through the ceiling. Concrete sprayed out into the air and down to the stairway outside. The turtles dodged as several lightning bolts struck the walls, windows, desks, and floors, each narrowly missing their green rambunctious targets. Again, more chunks of debris flew in all directions and the lightning bolts stopped. The turtles struggled to catch their breath and develop a strategy, but before anyone could say anything, Shredder teleported down the torched hallway and disappeared. The bank was a disaster zone as the turtles stood in disbelief, shock and a whole bunch of other feelings they didn't want.

"Did you guys see that?" Mikey asked

"Yeah." Leo stated

"This is not cool, bros." Donny added, shaking his head.

"Why would he take off like that?" Mikey asked again

"Hey guys, what's that noise?" Raph wondered out loud.

A faint but audible rumbling was heard in the distance. It soon became louder and louder as the walls and floors began to shake.

"What the shell's going on?!" Raph asked

"He must've leveled the foundation!" Donny answered scared out of his mind. "We better bail!"

The turtles looked to go out the main entrance, but it was blocked by a broken column that once reached the ceiling. Leo looked to his left and found the answer.

"The window!"

"Dude, we're turtles, not eagles!" Mikey protested

"NOW!" Leo shouted. After letting out a groan, Mikey followed his brothers as they each jumped out the window. Glass showered down on them as Mikey, Donny and Leo landed on cars parked at the side of the bank. One motorist driving down the street noticed this and slapped on his brakes out of surprise. Before he could blink, the top of his Pontiac dented severely, almost crushing his head. He let out a scream and few colorful insults as Raph rolled off to join his brothers. They sprinted for a nearby sewer door as several fire trucks, police cruisers and news crews rolled up to watch the remains of the bank fall down with a loud crash. The crews braced themselves as smoke spilled into the streets. The La Guardia Memorial Bank became just that: a memory.


	9. Chapter 8: Getting Serious

**Chapter 8: Getting Serious**

April 18th 5:55pm

The turtles were in complete shock. Never in their worst dreams did they think they would ever come across Shredder again. But now, all logic was thrown out the window. They should have known that a pile of wood wasn't going to keep the monster down. As they contemplated over what happened, none of them could speak. But after a very long silence, Mikey spoke up.

"This is…I mean…wow. And you'd think a whole dock would do someone in."

"He's superhuman." Donny said "That whole vial of ooze he drank made him more powerful. He's the perfect killing machine."

"He ain't a machine, Donny. He's the same ugly dog he's always been. He just contracted rabies and now we just gotta put him to sleep." Raph said, brandishing his sais.

"Raph, in case you didn't notice, Shredder is not some rabid dog. He's a monster with no emotion whatsoever!" Leo told his angst ridden brother. The other two turned their attention towards their leader. "He almost killed us tonight. He's stronger, faster, and way more deadly than he ever was before and we need to stop him before he does any more damage, but now is not the time. We're not ready."

"So what are we supposed to do? Just lay around?"

Mikey looked back at the TV to see Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves high-five in the last scene in "Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey" when a man in a cheap suit, sitting at a desk appeared in the other half of the screen.

"I'm Vernon Fenwick and for tonight's top story, the turtles continue their rampage of destruction."

The turtles turned their attention towards the Sony screen in confusion.

"Several hours ago, the La Guardia National Bank was attacked; its vaults emptied, and now it lies in ruins. Amateur footage was taken by a citizen who witnessed the damage and was able to capture a brief moment but enough to see what happened."

The scene cut to footage of the bank with smoke and fire rising from the top. It was somewhat grainy, similar to the footage of the four police officers beating Rodney King, which happened two years ago. The hands of the camera's handler were shaking and the footage showed. It zoomed in to catch the broken windows, the cracked walls and the burning roof along with a censored comment from the cameraman. Suddenly, he saw four figures leap out the windows and down onto a couple of parked cars. Another censored comment from the cameraman followed as the figures with giant shells on their backs ran to the nearby sewer door, lifted it up and dropped right down.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Raph shouted.

The footage cut away to a man in his late twenties with the caption, PETER LARSON, WITNESS underneath him. He wore a blue Mets cap, had a beard and his gut indicated that he had too many marinara meatball subs.

"Yeah, so I was outside, shootin' my video camera 'cause I was bored and outta nowhere some noises started going off. So I turn and see La Guardia Bank gettin' torched for some reason. It was like a freak accident at a fireworks factory! And those turtles were supposed to protect our money!"

"More on this story later." Vernon said as he straightened the papers in his hands. Before he could scream for Janet in makeup, he heard a loud slam of a fist on his desk. He looked up and saw an angry scowl on April's beautiful yet twisted face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Vernon?"

"Reporting the news as usual." Vernon stated unscathed.

"You show a piece of footage of them jumping out of a window of a burning building and say they started the fire?"

"Well, what do you see in that footage, April? What makes you think they didn't? Let me tell you something, it's about time you started seeing things my way: the RIGHT way, and the turtles are criminals who deserve to rot for--"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt her hand smack across his face hard, leaving a crude red handprint on his face.

"APRIL O'NEIL!" a gruff voice shouted.

April turned around in horror to see her boss, Phil Thompson storm right for her. He looked as if he would explode at any minute.

"Clean out your desk and don't bother coming back." He ordered.

A smirk stretched across Vernon's burning face. As April walked towards her office, a feeling of devastation washed over April. What she did was uncalled for and unnecessary even though a small part of her told her it wasn't. April had never been more ashamed of herself in her life. In fact, she felt more ashamed than she was after getting knocked out in the subway by a Foot clansman three years ago. Journalism is what she loves, what she eats, drinks, and breathes. April was born to report. When she was a little girl, she used to pretend that her pink Cinderella pen was a microphone and "report" what when on in the house, whether it was the family dog crapping on the carpet, her father getting a promotion, or her brother Tyler, coming home with a bad report card. Tyler frowned upon her and gave her Indian burns for it but that didn't alter her dream. Nothing did until today.

"I don't believe this." Mikey exclaimed.

"Everyone will think we're criminals now!" Donny added.

"Alright, that's it!" Leo stated before all heads turned towards him. "No more mistakes! From now on, if we want to catch the Shredder and get our credibility back, everybody does what I say, when I say it! Is that clear?"

"Yes." Mikey and Donny said unenthusiastically.

"Raph, is that clear?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Raph said as his three fingers went to pick up the remote. But before he could touch it, he felt his whole arm being twisted around, his face pushed into the floor, and his older brother mounted on his shell pinning him.

"Let's try this again, Raph! Do I make myself clear?"

"Leo, chill out!" Mikey barked.

Donny tried to grab Leo but his footsteps were heard and he was met with Leo's foot in the gut. As he lay on the ground fighting for air, Leo tightened his grip on Raph. If Raph's shoulder had a mouth, it would be screaming bloody murder since Raph tried his best not to. He tried to reach for his sai with his free hand but Leo trapped it as well.

"Do I…make…myself…CLEAR?!"

"LEONARDO!"

Leo looked over his shoulder to see Splinter standing with an angry look on his face. He let go of Raph's arms and stood in attention.

"Your sense of authority is displeasing!" he shouted.

Leo's head went down in shame.

"I'm sorry, Master Splinter."

"The Shredder has returned, my sons. I suggest you all get your act together."

The other three turtles also felt shame overwhelm them, especially Donny. Despite the genius he was, he had always pondered and doubted the worth of his and his family's existence. People's money was stolen, a bank burned down, and an old foe had awakened.

April 19, 1993 9:26pm

Outside the TGRI lab building, the mutated dandelion plants swayed in the cold wind. The chain linked fence surrounding the lab and bearing several warning signs to keep out remained undisturbed. Why would anyone trespass? If anyone knew what went on inside and cared for their lives, keep out is exactly what they would do. Not only was it conducting ooze-related experiments that would have everyone in the Supreme Court wetting their pants, but it was also housing New York's most dangerous escapees, an ancient ninja clan consisting of mostly teenage runaways, and a vengeful being that has become more monster than man.

Inside, the convicts were munching on Salisbury steak, rice, and corn in the lab cafeteria. Some of them wondered just who was allowed to work in the kitchen because the food tasted awful. It was as if they had Rudy the Red Hook Ripper working the stoves again and Lord knows that he wasn't exactly Gordon Ramsay. Over at one table, the two arms dealers, Tracy and Leon sat across from each other and both wished they were eating something better than the crap called Salisbury steak.

"Hey Leon, what do you think they got planned for us?" Tracy asked. "This Shredder guy didn't really tell us what our agenda was."

His mohawked partner looked up.

"I don't know man, but I'm sure it's real dope. Word's been going around saying we might pull off more banks, jewelry stores, and rich people. Some guys even said we might even pop some world leaders and control entire nations. But those are just rumors. There's no telling what they got for us, but I'm sure it won't stay a secret."

As soon as everyone finished eating their poor excuse for food, several Foot clansmen escorted them out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. Dr. Stockman had mentioned to them upon their arrival that a huge opportunity for greatness awaited them.

In the lab, Dr. Stockman was waiting for his subjects to arrive. He had just finished checking the data of the mutagen on the computer that was once Jordan Perry's. As he clicked on the SAVE option, he grinned. Stockman, like the convicts, was eager to begin the first experiments. Down the stairway, several operating tables were set up, complete with leather straps, and IV tubes. Next to them were several tall steel cages lined up. Each of them contained animals of all sorts. It was like Noah's ark only instead of two, there was one each. They roared and screeched in anger and fear of what was to come until several Foot clansmen hit them with tranquilizer from their 10-foot long injection prods. A small part of Stockman had been screaming inside that this was all wrong and that he must put an end to all this madness before it gets worse. But as usual, the rest of him pushed that tiny voice aside. In his line of work, there was no room for emotions. A slow rhythm of footsteps boomed behind him.

"Is everything in order?" the low voice of his leader asked.

Stockman rose from his chair.

"Yes sir."

"Good. If only we had the real formula, I would have no need for these pathetic lowlifes."

"Well you make due with what you have."

Shredder was right, you know. After the Supreme Court banned the mutagen, it got the attention of several crime organizations. They realized the ooze's potential and decided to capitalize. Many attempts have been made to recreate it but all have failed until just recently. In Japan, scientists who were blackmailed by the yakuza were able to formulate a mutagen that was as close to the original as they could get. Once they tested it on hamsters, the results proved disastrous. The hamsters went into seizures, began to deform and eventually die very slowly and painfully. But Stockman discovered that what the mutagen needs was a stabilizer. He was quite positive that protein of another species' DNA would be enough to keep the mutagen from reacting viciously on a subject once spliced together.

Human DNA

Stockman had explained this to Shredder before and both were anxious for good results. Stockman more so than Shredder for he knew that failure could mean a fate worse than death. The metal doors leading into the lab slid open like the ones installed in Wal Marts, and several Foot soldiers walked in leading an army of orange-clad convicts. One of the clansmen ordered them all to form rows and like the good soldiers in Shredder's new army (although some reluctant) they did so. The monster and the scientist turned towards them. The scientist spoke first.

"Welcome, gentlemen. You're all about to embark on a magnificent expedition; one much superior to robbing banks, dealing drugs, or kidnapping politicians' family members for ransom money." As Stockman said this, he turned to one Julian Bowers, a convict who made headlines for snatching Senator Nash's five year old daughter from her elementary school and held her for a briefcase filled with $50 million. When he received the briefcase, he got a face full of blue paint, a SWAT team member's boot where the sun don't shine, and a life sentence instead.

"We're talking global domination. The world can be ours. But in order to get what we want, we have to improve you. We have to improve your strength, your speed, and importantly, your mentality." He said, tapping his temple. "Throughout history, man has been able to do accomplish a lot. And yet, there is only so much he can do. Imagine what man can do if he had the swiftness of an eagle, or the strength of a lion, or the speed of a cheetah."

After pointing to the mentioned animals in their cages, a clansman walked over to Stockman and handed him two vials of blood, both of them labeled with black Sharpie ink on masking tape.

RHINO and WARTHOG

"Good choices." Stockman told the masked ninja. He held the vials up for all to see.

"I have here, two vials of animal DNA. Which of you gentlemen would like to be our first two volunteers? Which of you would like to have the strength of a rhinoceros and the viciousness of a warthog?"

The cons looked at each other to see who would step up. Like any normal person they were uncertain of any bizarre experiments that seemed to come from a Ridley Scott movie.

"We'll do it!" a voice shouted. Stepping from the clique of orange were two muscular sons of guns. One white, with a blonde crew cut and the other black, with a purple mohawk tied into a rat's tail.

"Our first contestants step right up." Stockman exclaimed.

The two arms dealers were soon strapped onto the two operating tables and plugged with IV lines leading to the main machine. Stockman injected both of the two vials into the machine which also contained the mutagen. He began to type a sequence of info regarding what he put in when he heard Tracy ask,

"So you gonna give us some anesthetics or what?"

Not taking his eyes off the monitor, Stockman pressed ENTER and responded coldly.

"No."

Green fluid (with shades of red) began to flow through the tubes to the operating tables. Tracy and Leon looked around nervously to see the looks on their peers' faces. Soon, the DNA-laced mutagen reached their subjects and through the IV lines, they seeped into their bloodstreams. The two began to breathe heavily for they knew not what to expect. Soon, they started to wince and twitch. An odd sensation they had not felt before began to sweep over. Tracy and Leon had injected some hard stuff together in the past and felt unusual sensations from them before, but nothing like this. This drug was causing them to groan and eventually scream.

It was hurting. BADLY.

As they felt this unpleasant sensation wash over them, they began to wonder if they had been tricked and subjected to lethal injection. It seemed that these two were being executed in front of their peers like the condemned prisoners of Medieval England. That thought began to occur in the minds of the convicts watching and questioned explicitly to Stockman what was going on.

"What the hell is this?" one shouted.

"Shut it off, man!" yelled another.

Shredder looked over at Stockman unsatisfied. They both wanted this to go well and with Leon and Tracy screaming bloody murder, Stockman thought he might have his head on a pike pretty soon. As Tracy screamed, his skin color began to fade to gray; his nose began to grow out, and from the bridge came two ivory horns. His body size began to increase too. So much so that the straps holding him began to rip and break.

At the same time, Leon started to feel his nose grow out too; but to a lesser extent. His nose began to form to a shape similar to a pig's. Clenching his teeth, he felt two extra ones grow from his lower gums and out his mouth. They were long and hooked like tusks. His skin color stayed the same but his body mass increases as well, breaking the straps that were holding him.

Soon, the painful sensation turned from ugly and painful to energizing and powerful. Testosterone times a million. It then, toned down some as the two beings that were once human stood from the tables and roared in triumph. The experiment was a success.

Everyone else looked in amazement at what stood before them. Was it a scientific breakthrough? An abomination of mankind? Or both? Standing where Tracy O'Leary stood was a hulking half man/half rhino mutant and where Leon Silver lumbered was an angry snorting half man/half warthog mutant. A smile stretched across Stockman's face.

"Yes!" Super Shredder said. "At last, revenge will be mine!"


	10. Chapter 9: Interview with the Turtles

**Chapter 9: Interview with the Turtles**

April 19, 1993 11:34pm

As Casey lay in his trailer bed, he felt overwhelmed with guilt over what he just did. He did a lot of things he's not proud in his past but he deemed running out on friends in time of need unforgivable. How can he ever face the turtles again? Everything he did with them was more than likely diminished. Especially helping them out of April's father's burning antique store. But at the same time almost felt a sense of relief having escaped a possible death from what he had feared since he pulled the lever on the trash compactor that hot night in 1990.

With guilt and relief fighting within him, Casey closed his eyes and waited for sleep to blot it all out. Usually, when one feels low, they wake up the next morning feeling better. Casey drifted into sleep as he wanted and began to feel cold. His blanket was enough to keep him warm so why was he feeling cold? Casey was not only beginning to feel cold but also felt like he was gliding. Gliding on what? Ice?

Yes. He was gliding on ice. Not only that, but Casey was skating. He saw himself in a New York Rangers uniform taking a puck to the Dallas Stars goalie on the other end. Casey could hear the cheers of over 50,000 screaming fans overflowing Madison Square Garden. His teammate passes him the puck, he sprints for the goal as fast as his skates would let him, but before he could swing that puck right between the goalie's legs, he looked up and saw a long, sharp blade swing down on him.

SLASH

It sliced through his shoulder with a painful, shearing sting. Casey yelled out as he fell to the ice. As he lay dying, he took one last look at his would-be killer. He wore a metallic samurai helmet and his eyes were burning with rage.

"No...no...n-n-no..."

Shredder lifted his ninjato up once more and slashed again.

"AAAAAAAHHHH!"

Casey woke up screaming. A few dogs in the distance responded by barking loudly and their owners swearing at them to shut up. Casey breathed heavily. He lay back down, refusing to sleep.

April 20, 1993 6:00pm

Channel 6's fanfare played and the studio lights went up to reveal five chairs occupied by one human reporter and four mutated turtles. Originally, April was supposed to conduct the interview with her four reptilian friends on the city's crime rate and their status as a family as well as a group. But due to what Vernon put as "unprofessional behavior" (then again, any objection to his opinion was unprofessional in his mind) Vernon would now fill in that role. Just as he was being applied with makeup beforehand, he jokingly considered having a janitor on hand in case they spew their shit on stage. Many within earshot roared with laughter. Splinter, of course, was not satisfied with the boys going on television having to plead their case, especially after spending so much time telling them not to expose themselves. Meanwhile, April felt no better watching what was supposed to be HER interview with her four reptilian pals as she sat on the couch in the plush white living room of Dr. Stockman's mansion. Her knight in shining armor, Baxter was more than happy to have her move in after her landlord threw her out her apartment but that didn't comfort her one bit. Not with Vernon about to slander the turtles again. This time, to their faces.

"Good evening everyone and welcome to another edition of Channel 6 News, I'm Vernon Fenwick and to my left are the Turtles, starting with the one in the purple mask is Donatello..."

"Hello, Vernon." Donny said, unenthusiastically as the camera panned toward him and his brothers.

"...in the orange mask is Michelangelo..."

"Hey, loser...I mean Vernon."

Vernon paused at that insult for a moment with a scowl but then moved on.

"...in the red is Raphael..."

"Eh, what it is."

"...and last but not least, in the blue mask, the eldest turtle and leader of the group, Leonardo."

"Good evening, Vernon." Leo said with the utmost seriousness while sitting up straight in his chair as opposed to his brothers who were slouched and wanting to leave.

"OK gentlemen, let's start by getting the obvious out of the way. How did you guys become the way you are now?"

Leo leaned forward and spent a great deal of time explaining their origins (as I, your literary challenged writer explained in Chapter 1) but Vernon became bored very fast.

"Not only do we hope to make New York a safer place but the whole country and possibly the whole world. Now for all you people watching at home, we'd like to tell you all how you can-"

"Yes yes I know you guys would like to tell the kids at home to recycle and not to smoke weed but we have a show to do." Vernon chuckled.

Leo's enthusiasm instantly melted away.

"Let's talk about this mutagen. Now, clearly it was responsible for your physical states and in some ways its effects were remarkable..."

"But?" Raph asked. Vernon's pause didn't sit well with him. More so than anything else.

"But have any of you ever wondered if this mutagen had any, shall we say, harmful effects on you for all these years?"

Donatello spoke up.

"Well, a while back, Professor Jordan Perry, God rest his soul, told us how this mutagen was formed at TGRI. It was composed of chemicals that were exposed to radioactive waves and were-"

"What kind of chemicals?" Vernon interrupted again.

"Well...truth be told we don't know. In fact, no one knows because all of the records were disposed of."

"So they could have been extremely hazardous chemicals?" Vernon asked sternly. With every question being thrown, it was clear to the audience that Donny was running out of answers. He felt like a chef running out of ingredients as more hungry customers came into the restaurant.

"Well...possibly. But even so, they resulted in forming something that was capable of modifying molecular structures in all life forms. I mean, take a look at us." he responded, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"And that's why EVERY country in the world banned any form of use with it? That's why several crime syndicates hold scientists hostage and force them to duplicate it and sell it on the black market?"

Donny had nothing. A discouraged look washed over his face. Donny had always doubted the worth of him and his brothers' existence but as the interview went on, he was beginning to accept the negativity again.

"Now, another question regarding these "unknown" chemicals. Do you suppose further study would indicate that they not could only affect your appearances but also your mentalities, as well?"

"What are you saying?"

"Well, I'm saying, don't you think that the mutagen could have potentially ignited any animalistic instincts that could be harmful to humans?"

"Even if that was true," Leo butted in "We're turtles, not lions, not tigers, or bears!"

"OH MY!" Mikey shouted.

However, the audience was not impressed.

"Is this thing on?" Mike asked nervously, tapping the tiny mic hooked around his neck.

"Anyway," Vernon continued "How do you explain what happened at La Guardia National Bank?"

"Look, we didn't destroy that bank! Alright?" Raph shouted, losing his cool again.

"I wasn't accusing you of such." Vernon replied calmly. "I was simply asking you how you four were spotted fleeing a large upscale bank while it burns and collapses?"

The audience agreed with shouts of "Yeah!"

Leo answered "We were trying to foil the next robbery and we were almost killed by Shredder, so we-"

"Hang on a sec, Shredder?" Vernon interrupted. "The same Shredder who you gentlemen claimed before was thrown off a building and crushed in a garbage truck three years ago?"

"Yes." Leo stated, agitated but professional

"The same Shredder who you claimed tore apart an entire dock on himself outside the Dockshore Club a year later?"

"Yes!"

Vernon sighed. "You know I always thought ninjas were supposed to kill and kill silently. I have to say it looks like you boys aren't good at either."

Raph stood up, knocking over his chair.

"You know what, Vernon? We don't have to answer your dumb questions anymore! All you've done was insult us since the day you got hired. If April were in your spot, which she should be, then we'd at least have a professional interview, even if the folks at home don't like it!" Raph stated angrily as he pointed at the camera.

"Raph, sit down." Leo commanded as his brother walked towards the frightened reporter

"...security..." Vernon uttered while cowering in his chair.

"Speaking of whom," Raph continued "April O'Neil has more talent in her little finger than you do in your whole body!"

"Security?"

Several security guards headed to the stage.

"Raph, calm down!" Leo ordered

"You're a poor man's Ted Koppel and it's time you-"

Before he finished, security personnel grappled with him but were soon met with well executed blows, kicks, throws, and take downs. Vernon looked down at the pattern of groaning bodies and back up at Raph. Fear overwhelmed him like a tsunami.

"It's time you got what you deserved." Raph stated as he lifted Vernon up by the lapels on his new black Gucci suit. Vernon knew that this was it for him. Despite Leo's orders and the attempts to subdue Raphael by security wouldn't be enough to stop his big green fist as it pulled back and...

"WEDGIE!"

Vernon envisioned a string of floss going between a set of teeth as he felt his Hanes up his rectum. The audience booed but Michelangelo was laughing his ass off. Leo looked to the door and noticed several men in blue uniforms rush in.

"FREEZE! POLICE!"

Leo tossed one of his katana swords at a power box on the studio wall, causing a shower of sparks to fly followed by an outage, blackening out the Channel 6 studio. Long before anyone could get the electricity back on, the turtles were long gone.

"Poor man's Ted Koppel, huh?" Vernon said to himself in a slight squeaky voice. He remembered Leo saying something about living in the sewers.

A smile appeared across April's face. For the first time in his life, Vernon Fenwick got what he deserved: the biggest atomic wedgie one has ever had the misfortune of experiencing. One might argue that a severe beating was only fit for him but just seeing him with his underwear higher than his pants was satisfying enough. Soon, her prince came into the room and sat down next to her.

"Hey sweetheart."

"Hey Baxter." April said, her spirits beginning to rise again.

"How was the interview?"

"It was pretty stupid but the ending was the best part."

Her answer only went over his head. Baxter never cared for anything that involved the turtles.

"Anyway, I was wondering, how would you like to go to Milan?" he asked in a romantic but silly Italian accent.

"Why, that would be _molto bueno!_" April responded happily. "I need a vacation."

"Oh no no no, I didn't mean to go on vacation in Milan. I meant to _live_ in Milan." Baxter reassured her.

April's smile slowly melted.

"Live there?"

"Yes." Baxter told her, enthusiastically. "It's sunny, it's quiet, so it'd be a nice change from all this city life here in New York. Plus, this could be a chance to extend my company all over the world, starting with Europe. I'll be making more money, we can have our wedding there, and we could finally raise a family like you wanted."

April didn't know what to think. Living in a city with so much culture sounded like a dream come true but that also meant she would have to leave everything she knew behind: her country, her home, and of course her friends: the turtles. They meant the world to her. Ever since Raph saved her from a possible death in the subway three years ago, she owed her life to them. She thought about Raph and his angry demeanor but also his determination and willingness to protect those in danger. She thought about Mikey. Oh, how she loved his jokes, his playful attitude and ability to live life to the fullest. She then, thought about Donny. His techno babble confused her at times (as well as everyone else) but what mattered to April was that Donny was the smartest being she knew, even if he was a mutated reptile. Lastly, she thought about Leo. Loyal. Brave. Wise. These were just a few words that could describe such a great leader and friend in Leonardo.

But then, she thought about Casey. His dirty white, skull-like hockey mask, his long greasy hair, his stocky build, and not to mention that comical, yet sexy Brooklyn accent. NO! Get out! she screamed in her head. Casey had fouled up and did not deserve to be in her fantasies. She remembered all too well what happened that night three years ago. Soon after Shredder was thrown off that apartment building into the garbage truck, and Casey took her home, they approached the front door.

"Hey April?" Casey asked

"Yeah?"

"I just want to say...um..."

"What is it, Casey?" He was starting to look flustered.

"I just want to say...that I got your back."

"That's good." April responded, smiling lightly

"Yeah. I got your back, and the turtles' backs. From here on in, when you guys need help, I'll always be there."

"Good." April told him as her hand went for the door.

Suddenly, Casey grabbed her, pulled her to him and locked lips with her! April's first response was to push him away but his words sounded so sincere, she couldn't bear to. She welcomed his advances by wrapping her arms around her grungy prince and let the warmth of his lips wash over her. 'I'll always be there.' Was that really what he meant to say? Did he mean something else? Either way, no words were needed as they pushed their way through the door with their lips still locked and went straight for her door. They found their way to the bedroom, lips still locked and arms still groping one another as Casey kicked the door shut.

"Um..." April uttered.

"Well, what do you think?" Baxter asked.

"That's a big step." She said with uncertainty "Can I get back to you on that?"

"Sure, take your time." he smiled

"I'm gonna get us some champagne." April said with a fake grin. She needed a drink. And possibly a night in bed with Baxter to try and forget all of this for now.

As April walked into the kitchen, the phone rang. Baxter grabbed it.

"Hello?"

"Baxter! Is April in the room?" the voice asked. It sounded like a disgruntled news reporter.

"Not anymore, Vernon. Did you learn anything, tonight?"

"Yeah, turtles know how to make a G-string out of my Hanes!"

"I meant, did you learn anything USEFUL?"

"Yeah I did. When do I get my money?"

"First you tell me what you figured out."

Vernon let out an impatient grunt. "Fine. Here it is..."

_I'd like to apologize for taking SOOO long on this chapter and story. I've been going through a serious case of burnout. If I take too long again, I might just post my next story to its entirety so it won't happen again._


End file.
